


The room of requirement

by Stardustcanfly



Series: The room of requirement [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarrython, Firstkiss, M/M, roomofrequirement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 09:31:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11756976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stardustcanfly/pseuds/Stardustcanfly
Summary: Harry stumbles upon a sleeping Draco in the room of requirement, arguing and healing commences...





	The room of requirement

Draco perched on a low ornate table in the room of requirement, staring down at his hands and enjoying the overall peace of the room. The pale haired boy often came here for respite from the world, it was his place of solitude, and the only room in all of Hogwarts where he could let down his guard for awhile. Draco closed his eyes and lay back, sprawling uncharacteristically across the table. He thought he’d just lay there awhile, alone and undisturbed, just for a few minutes of rest. His brain stubbornly reminded him that it was almost after curfew, and that he should definitely be getting back to the Slytherin dorm now, otherwise Professor Snape would be on his case before he could say Salazar. Draco hung onto this thought, thinking of moving any minute now, just a few more seconds and then he would go… just a few more… 

 

Harry angrily stalked down a deserted corridor, his green eyes blazing and hair even messier than usual. He reached a dead end, and letting out a groan of frustration at everything and everyone, he swung a punch at the stone wall, cracking the surface hard with his curled fist. Then he did it again, and again, and soon he was lashing out as fast as he could swing his arms, hitting the stone as hard as he could; cursing and spitting as he did so. The cracks of his fists echoed down the corridor, but the cries of his rage went unheard, as they always did. 

Eventually, after the fiftieth or so punch, Harry let go and sunk to the floor, silent tears sliding down his face. He pulled his knees to his chest and looked at his shaking hands. They were bloody and bruised, and the tender skin around his knuckles was rapidly swelling and turning dark: He’d do a healing spell later, there was no need to disturb Madame Pomfrey. Laying his head on his knees, Harry tried to slow his rapidly beating heart, the anger slowly dwindling within him.

Harry didn’t often lose control, growing up with the constantly infuriating Dursleys had pretty much ensured that. He’d grown used to snide comments from his ‘family’, their harsh stares and bullying nature had seemed to numb his anger, and that was ok, for a while. Until it got too much, a seething and uncontrollable rage would rise within him, and he would stalk off, to let out his anger on something that could not hurt. 

And that was how Harry had got here, just one more thing had tipped him over the edge, and he had run from his friends, who tried to understand but couldn’t. 

Still shaking, Harry got to his feet, and to his surprise saw that the door to the room of requirement stood just opposite from him. Sighing gratefully he walked to it, hoping that solitude would calm him enough to go back to his dorm before the last call of curfew. 

 

 

Pushing the door quietly open, Harry wandered into the room. It was dimly lit with a pale lantern which hung from the ceiling, and it made the space glow with ethereal light. The walls were a calm grey, and the ceiling a cloudy cream. The floors were whitewashed wood, which had a worn and old appearance. Then to the left was a low sofa, pale blue with patched cushions.   
But what inevitably drew Harry’s gaze was the ornate wooden table in the centre of the room, for sprawled across it, oblivious to the world, was a sleeping Draco Malfoy.

Harry started in shock, and stood, gazing at the slumbering Slytherin prince in complete bewilderment. Malfoy looked, and it was a preposterous idea obviously, but he almost looked… angelic. His alabaster skin glowed in the pale light, his hair looked like white gold, and his face, which Harry had grown accustomed to see twisted into a permanent sneer, was relaxed and peaceful. The Gryffindor found himself quite mesmerised by the boy he saw before him, and he had to catch his breath. ‘But this was Malfoy’ Harry reminded himself, ‘your enemy and a future death eater? Remember?’ 

Despite warnings from his conscience, Harry shuffled forwards towards Draco, feeling some invisible draw, almost like a rope tugging him forwards. It was because of this magnetism, that Harry found himself at Draco’s side, still gazing in awe at the boy who looked so different in sleep; so calm, so at peace with the world, as if in mindless slumber a white flag was waved, and all evils forgotten. 

Gently, and almost without thought, Harry reached forward and brushed Draco’s blond hair from his forehead, and smiled slightly as Draco shifted at his touch. 

 

Someone was brushing Draco’s hair back from his forehead, similarly to the way his mother used to do when he was young. Draco leant into the touch, and smiled softly as he slowly opened his eyes. His sight was blurred at first, and so all he saw was a pair of bright green eyes and a shock of dark hair, but they quickly vanished as the owner exclaimed in shock and darted out of sight. 

Draco flew into sitting position and stared at the intruder, who was no other than the rather famous and rather flushed Harry Potter.   
“Were you touching my hair?” Draco hissed incredulously.  
“No!” Harry shot back. “Why would I even want to do that?”   
Draco looked slightly affronted and reached up to touch his fringe “Don’t ask me Potter, why do you do anything?”  
Harry shrugged. “I dunno, purpose in life I s’pose” he mumbled in response, rocking slightly on his heels.  
Draco sighed as he slid his legs off the table, “That was a rhetorical question potter, and your slang is atrocious. You have obviously been spending too much time with Weasley”  
Harry raised his eyebrows “You’re surprisingly mild today Malfoy”.  
“Yes, well, I find that my mind is occupied with other things, and therefore my energy and enthusiasm to torment you is severely diminished at the present” Draco replied with another sigh.  
“So you admit that you torment me?” Harry said, clearly surprised.  
“I…” Draco started, but then cut himself off, his eyes widening. “What the hell happened to your hands Potter?!” he said, gesturing at Harry’s bloodied fists. Harry looked down, he had almost forgotten about his earlier outburst, and the state of his knuckles now looked must worse in the luminous light.   
“Well shit” Harry murmured, as he looked at the torn blue-black flesh, and winced as he flexed his hands experimentally.   
“Your hands are bloody pulps and all you can say is ‘well shit’” Draco exclaimed, his voice rising.  
Harry looked at him, saying sharply “Why would you care?”.  
Draco dropped his eyes immediately and tried not to shrug, instead focusing on scowling at the floor. Harry drew his wand out, and performed a half hearted healing spell on his left hand. It made little difference, healing spells had never been a strong point of his.   
Meanwhile Draco watched him out the corner of his eye, growing gradually more frustrated at the incompetence of Harry’s healing spells. His patience lasted until Harry’s fourth attempt, then he threw all caution to the wind and marched over to Potter.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, eyeing Draco as he stormed up to him.   
“I am saving you from your own incompetence” Draco snapped, grabbing one of Harry’s hands in his own. Harry winced as Draco dragged the extremity up, and after inspecting it closely the boy raised his wand and performed a quick and efficient healing spell. Harry watched as the skin knitted itself back together and a faint tingling sensation buzzed through his hand. Harry glanced up at Draco and met his grey eyed stare.   
“You can do painless healing spells?” Harry asked, impressed.  
“Obviously” Draco replied dryly, and he sounded so much like Snape for a moment that Harry couldn’t help but snicker.   
“What?” Draco said, scowling again, and Harry had a passing thought that he much preferred Malfoy’s face when it wasn’t twisted into a scowl.   
“I said ‘what’ Potter” Draco practically spat, he despised being laughed at.   
“Oh, nothing” Harry quickly replied, coming back to himself. “Sorry” he then said, almost as a reflex. Draco softened visibly, and reached for Harry’s other hand. Harry retracted it quickly and said “I’ll do it Malfoy”.   
Draco stepped back and raised his hands in placation. Feeling self conscious, Harry raised his wand and copied Draco’s previous movements, muttering the spell as he did so. His hand healed. Not quite so quickly as his other had, but still painlessly, and Harry felt quite a sense of accomplishment.

Draco watched Harry perform an almost perfect spell with his eyebrows raised, the chosen one learnt fast. Harry lifted his head with triumph in his green eyes, and Draco nodded.   
“Well done Potter” he smirked “It seems your not as useless as you appear”  
Harry went to make an angry retort, but then, to Draco’s surprise, smirked back and dropped his hand to his side.   
The Slytherin prince and the boy who lived just looked at each other for a moment, grey eyes lost in green, and the overwhelming sense of calm in the room did not waver. Slowly Harry took a step towards Draco, his grin faltering. Draco mimicked him, and he had to catch his breath as those luminous eyes drew closer.   
“Potter?” Draco said softly.  
“Yes Malfoy” Harry replied, his gaze grazing over Draco’s lips.  
“What happened to your hands?”  
Harry wasn’t expecting that, and he drew a breath, loosening himself from the depths of Draco slate grey gaze.   
“Oh um, I fell”  
Draco eyed him “You fell….”  
Harry blushed and nodded, dropping his eyes to the floor.   
“On your hands….?” Draco continued, humour dancing on his face.  
Harry glanced up at Draco with a faintly pained expression and said “...Yes?”, then more firmly “Yes”.  
“Youngest seeker in a century with un-precedented reflexes and balance- according to the daily prophet- and he manages to fall over and damage both hands to the extent of excessive bleeding. Yeah, I don’t buy it Potter.”   
Harry met Draco’s open expression and snipped “Well regardless of whether you buy it or not Malfoy, it happened, so lets just move on ok?”  
“Okay okay” Draco laughed, clearly enjoying himself far too much. “Why?” He continued “Did the golden boy get into a fist fight?”  
“No” Harry gritted his teeth “Just drop it”.   
Draco instantly became more serious and nodded. He gestured towards the door saying “I should get back to my dorm, its after curfew”.   
Harry just shrugged and kept his eyes fixed on the floor as Draco strode across the room. Once he reached the door Draco turned, smirking again “You coming Potter?”  
Harry started and looked up at Draco in surprise “What?”  
“I said are you coming?” Draco replied, sounding impatient.   
“Yeah alright” Harry said, looking bemused. What was with this new Malfoy?   
Draco did a mock bow and opened the door for Harry. “Ladies first” he smirked, as Harry stepped through and proceeded to scowl at him. 

 

To be continued...

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed, any comments appreciated xx


End file.
